


I Like To Read (Addiction Support)

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy Kissing, Brief Mention of Blood, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, blowjob, brief mention of food porn, mention of masturbation, talk of A/B/O, talk of gun/knife play, wincesty good sex with a hint of rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam likes to read.  It could be a problem.   </p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like To Read (Addiction Support)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Apparently I have nothing to do with the show or WB/CW beyond my imagination. Oh, to dream.
> 
> AN 1: This story is the result of a conversation held in comments from a friending meme with imaginecoolnamewhere the idea of fanfiction addiction and support was mentioned. My dear, hope you enjoy, it was fun to write!

Sam had researched until he was beyond tired.  He had Google’d, he had Wiki’d.  Truth be told, he kept getting distracted while researching, because his phone kept letting him know of new entries.  Which he absolutely HAD to read right away.  And therefore his research kept getting pushed back.  Personal research not related to a case, but still.   
  
It was a problem.  A mostly pleasant problem.  But one which was going to start affecting daily life very soon.   The other more immediate problem was the bulge in his pants.   
  
Checking the time on the laptop to see when Dean would likely be back, Sam opened up his inbox and clicked on the new posting.  He could tell by the tags and header information it was going to be a gem.  So he quickly unzipped himself and pulled out of his “tighty whities”, anticipating a leisurely self-gratification session.  
  
Which did not last long at all.  Not because he had no stamina or control.  No, it was because he had a big brother.  Rolling his eyes and tucking himself back in, Sam shut down the browser as he heard the Impala’s engine rumble into the parking lot.  
Dean wouldn’t have a problem with what Sam was going to do.  Hell, he’d even watch, help out or join in himself.  No, the problem was _why_ Sam was going to do it.  Sam blushed thinking about it, getting up for a drink of water to cool down as Dean made his usual brash entrance.  
  
All Sam could think about was the waiting story.  And the fantastic images that flashed through his head that weren’t just fiction.  The writers didn’t know that, although you would think they did.  And Sam loved reading about the escapades he and his brother got up to.  He used them like his own personal playbook.  And Dean thought Sam was that good in the sack.  Turns out, Sam was just addicted to fanfiction.  Of the wincest variety.  
  
Sam watched as Dean went through his usual evening ritual of inhaling his burger/fry/pie combo and chugging a beer while he ate his own grilled chicken salad.  Dean had gotten him a cookie, too.  Smiling goofily, he listened with half an ear, mumbling appropriate responses to appease his brother and not get caught drifting off in his head, his attention completely focused on “research” while Dean watched TV.   
  
Dean had noticed his little brother was distracted.  Yeah, Dean knew his Sammy too well.  Something was up.  Usually Dean would push the big brother button and poke until he had answers.  But Dean felt in a charitable mood and didn’t get the vibe Sam was keeping something hurtful or painful from him.   
  
Dean stood up and stretched, letting his soft and worn gray T-shirt ride up his chest.  Sam looked up, mouth open with a forkful of salad and Dean saw the dopey grin slide into a very interested heat.  Winking at Sam, he excused himself to the couch, flipped on the TV and started searching for his perennial favorite action movies.  He briefly looked over at Sam, noticing disinterest in finishing his salad.  Sam’s eyes kept flickering over to the laptop.  _Huh_.  
  
Sam seemed to always be on the laptop recently.  _Any_ spare time, in fact.  Sure, Sam liked research.  But Sam wasn’t big on hunting like Dean, so why would he always be working cases?  Dean smelled a hunt of his own.  Just what was Sammy boy up to?  Chuckling to himself, he decided to let it ride a bit, and tackle Sam unexpectedly.  He liked tackling his Sammy, any opportunity was a good one.  Besides, sometimes he needed the laptop, too.  And not just for anime porn.  
  
About thirty minutes later, Dean had settled into a marathon of Rambo movies, so Sam moved to the bed, with every intent of researching his problem.  _Before_ he read any more stories.  Business first.   
  
Opening up his Word document, Sam started typing from the written down notes he’d accumulated.  A twelve step program for his addiction, based on principles for other similar programs.  Yep.  He’d create his own.  Logically that was the best course to take, he’d thought.  
  
As Sam started clicking away, Dean glanced over and noticed the worry line of concentration in Sam’s forehead.  He was deep in thought, and chewing on the end of a pen.  He watched his brother for a few minutes more, and told himself when the movie was over, he was gonna make Sam spill his not-so-secretive doings.  Dean took a long pull of his beer and turned his attention back to Rambo.  
  
 _Sam’s Twelve Steps To Stop Reading Fanfiction_.  Titles suck, thought Sam.   
  
 **Step One.  Admitting that one cannot control one’s addiction or compulsion.**  
 _Yep, I have a problem, alright._  
 **Step Two.  Recognizing a higher power can give strength.**  
 _Well, Chuck is a prophet, so that counts.  I recognize him.  I don’t feel any stronger, though._  
 **Step Three.  Examining past errors with the help of a sponsor.**  
 _Becky could be my sponsor.  She is certainly someone who has been here and can understand_.  _But she doesn’t see this as an error.  And well, it’s BECKY.  That could get weird, quick._  
 **Step Four.  Making amends for these errors.**  
 _Ah, the sticking point.  I’m going to have to tell Dean.  Shit.  I just don’t know if I can.  He’s gonna freak out.  He is gonna wonder what the hell is wrong with me and call me on this shit soon._  
 **Step Five.  Learning to live a new life with a new code of behavior.**  
 _Ha!  I can certainly picture the new code of behavior I’d like to see occur.  But, telling Dean in step four is probably not going to allow this step to happen_.  _And it probably isn’t really what the program guidance meant.  I’m supposed to be sorry and atone.  Crap._  
 **Step Six.  Helping others who suffer from the same addiction.**  
 _I can offer to write my own stories and post, instead of just lurking to read.  Yeah, probably also not the direction this step is supposed to mean.  Fuck me._  
  
Sam stopped typing and glared at the research notes on the bed.  Then he glanced over at Dean.  It looked like the movie was about to end soon.  _Shit_.  He needed to tell Dean.  He really didn’t want to.  But it was affecting him on cases now, the distraction and nervousness of getting caught making him so very off his game.  He could get one or both of them hurt.  He realized his fingers were twitching to open the browser.  And checking his phone, he had a little green light blinking…beckoning.  
  
So…maybe he could get Dean to succumb to this compulsion himself.  Screw the addiction breaking program.  They could write stories together.  Or, Sam could write after they’d finished trying something new.  Or they could compete for who could find the dirtiest, filthiest, sexiest stories out there.  Dean liked to compete with Sam, it was ingrained in his big brother brain.  And then they could act them out.  Dean would like that too.  In fact, he had so far, without even knowing it.  
  
Besides, he was also pretty sure a twelve…er, six step program wasn’t meant to suck someone else into the same addiction so you could _help_ them.   
  
Grinning so hard his dimples broke out fully, Sam called over to Dean.  Dean quickly got up as the credits rolled, ready to tickle-pounce his little brother into submission.  Seeing the sparks in Sam’s eyes, Dean quickly looked to the laptop, as Sam clicked on something in the browser.  Sam hid the screen from his brother and clicking again, gave a quick look, scanning it over and giving an “Aha!”   
  
Dean’s confused look had Sam softly laughing…”Just found something we could try Dean.  And when we’re done, I’ll let you read it.”  
  
“Sure Sammy. “  Dean crawled onto the bed slowly, already stripping down.  “This have anything to do with you being on the laptop all the damn time?”  
  
Shyly looking up at Dean, a rosy flush starting at his cheeks and spreading down his neck and across his chest, Sam replied, “Maybe.”  
  
“C’mon Sammy, tell me.”  Dean started removing Sam’s clothes as well, eager to see his little brother’s honeyed skin.  
  
“Dean, I.  Well.  It’s embarrassing, Dean.  You’re not gonna like it and you’ll make fun of me.”  Sam let his big brother undress him, enjoying how Dean’s eyes drank in the view.  Sam would never stop being in awe of how Dean looked at him, it made him squirm and fidget nervously.  
  
A flushed and shy Sammy was too much for Dean.  Taking his brother’s tender lips in his, Dean gave him a searing kiss.  “Promise I won’t, ok?  But something has been bugging you for a while now.”  
  
Sam sighed, letting Dean push him back, nipping and licking along his jaw line.  _Now or never_ , thought Sam.   
  
“Ok, well, I …I’ve joined a site where I can um, read stories.  Sexy stories.  And, they’re about guys.  You know, guys…like us.”  Sam closed his eyes, waiting for Dean’s response, dreading it.  
  
Dean kept kissing down Sam’s throat to his collarbone, traveling down one shoulder and then the other, planting little open - mouth kisses.  His hands traveled over Sam’s sides and down his thighs, lightly skimming over the skin, distracting his little brother.  
  
“Yeah, Sammy?  Sexy stories about guys that fuck?  Or sexy stories about brothers?”  And Dean dipped his tongue into Sam’s navel on the word _brothers_ as Sam gave a soft whimper.  Then he slowly turned the laptop’s screen towards him so he could see what had captured Sam’s attention before.  
  
Sam was tense, strung so tight awaiting the response from Dean that didn’t come.  Instead, Dean was teasing him in an all too pleasant way, and he wanted to relax into it.   Wanted to, yet couldn’t.  
  
Sam’s body was radiating heat, from embarrassment and desire.  Refusing to open his eyes and see the anger in Dean’s, he stammered, “Stories about brothers, Dean…doing all kinds of things.  You-You’re not mad?”  
  
Eyes still closed, Sam was surprised when Dean quickly moved back over the length of his body and their lips met again.  Sam’s eyes flew open and all he could see was the thinnest ring of emerald around completely blown pupils.  
  
“Think it’s sexy as hell that you read fanfiction, Sam.  Fanfiction about _us_ ,” Dean murmured around their kisses.  Sam panicked, he tried to move from under Dean, but Dean held him fast.  Pulling back just enough to break their kiss and keeping eyes locked on Sam, Dean grinned.   
  
“I wasn’t sure Sam.  I knew something was up, and now, well, I can see LiveJournal up on your screen here.  And you’re on the Wincest community.”  
  
Sam started to hyperventilate just a bit.  
  
“Oh Sam, some of your best moves came from few of my stories, now that I think about it.”  
  
Sam froze, not comprehending what was happening.  
  
Resuming placing kisses up and down Sam’s neckline, Dean kept talking, that breathy sexy aroused voice almost whispering,   “What was your favorite story Sam?  Who’s your favorite author?  Do you write too or only read?”  
  
Sam truly was freaking out.  Dean, he – Dean _read_ fanfiction too?  Wait, Dean _wrote_ fanfiction?  About _them_?  When?  How?  He couldn’t move, he was paralyzed in an odd mixture of fear, nervousness and relief.  
  
“C’mon Sammy, talk to me.  It’s ok, little brother.”  And on the word _brother_ , again, Dean lapped his tongue against his bellybutton and gave his hips a roll against Sam’s.  Sam groaned and desperately tried to find his voice.   It didn’t matter, he was truly at a loss for words.  
  
“Sam.”  Dean’s voice lowered, taking on that slight intonation that meant Sam better damn well do what Dean wanted, in this case, to answer him.  Sam could never not respond to the authority in Dean’s voice.  
  
“Yeah, Dean.  Just…I don’t know, I don’t know what to say,” Sam responded, his own voice a thin murmur.  He was still in shock, and Dean kept peppering his body with kisses and licks and nips.  How was he supposed to fucking concentrate?  
   
“I want you to tell me one of your favorite stories Sam.  Tell me who you like to read.  What are some kinks you’ve read about we haven’t tried yet?   I wanna know if your mind is as dirty as mine is.”  Dean smirked up at him, before he placed those plush pouty pink and perfect lips around Sam’s cock and began giving him a messy and completely over-the-top horndog blowjob.  
  
“Fuck, Dean.  Can’t-man, I can’t think when you do that shit.”  Sam closed his eyes again, started to relax into the sensation, and suddenly Dean stopped.  
  
“You want more, baby, you gotta talk.”  Dean let the drool in his mouth run down Sam’s dick, as he slowly licked it all back up, little kitten laps.  
  
Sam opened his eyes and just stared at his big brother.  _Fine._ He wanted to know, Sam was gonna tell him.  As long as Dean kept going.  Sam could do this, he could.   
  
“Well Dean, I really love the idea of you being my Alpha.”  Sam glanced at Dean as Dean took him down to the root again.  Dean’s eyes locked on Sam’s as he slowly worked him up and down, encouraging Sam to keep going.  “Yeah, I love the idea of being your omega bitch, with you taking me roughly, forcefully, my heat out of control and you fucking me deep, sliding in my ass, all slick and ready for you, then you knotting me.  Rutting against each other, you filling me up over and over, tied tight to me, marking and claiming me with a bite so deep, I’ll carry it around on my neck for days.”  
  
Dean was now rolling Sam’s balls in his hand as he worked the base of Sam’s long thick cock with his other.  The suction and the heat and the pace were bringing Sam fairly close.  Before his balls could draw up, Dean popped off and kissed Sam hard on the lips.   
  
“Yeah, Sam?  What else?  What else do you like?  Keep talking, tell me more and you’ll get more.”  Before Sam could protest over the unfinished blow job, Dean was at his hole, finger tracing around the pink puckered skin.   
  
Sam gave a quick intake of breath at that, waiting for Dean to do something, anything.   
  
“Sammy,” Dean sing-songed, “waiting for you to want to make me continue.”  
  
Blowing out a long breath, Sam pushed his ass into Dean’s face, pretty much begging for action.  And he started talking again.  “I don’t have a favorite writer, man, they’re all good.  Crazy, I think, the ideas they come up with.  I wouldn’t wanna be locked in a play dungeon with any of them, that’s for sure, I don’t know that either of us would make it out alive or able to walk again.”  
  
Dean started licking over Sam’s entrance, just letting his tongue taste the tang of his delicious Sam.  Yeah, some of the fans were extremely interesting with their viewpoints.  Dean knew if they had either one or both of the Winchesters in a locked room, they’d be fucked to death.  Or something like that.  Of course, Dean had his Sam all to himself and wasn’t about to let him go easily at all tonight.  Grinning, he added a finger, noticing Sam’s eyes completely blown with arousal.  “Keep talking, Sammy.”  
  
Sam was trying to form sentences in his head that wouldn’t sound completely stupid.  He opened his mouth, and well, stupid just fell out.  He couldn’t even stop himself.  “There are some funny ones that revolve around pie.”  Sam saw Dean’s eyes light up a bit as his finger stilled.  Shaking his head, Dean resumed the scissoring motion, adding another finger.  “Yeah, Sammy?  I do love me some pie.  Anything else trip your trigger?”  
  
Sam took a very deep breath and flushed hotly again at the word trigger.  Dean had started hitting his prostate every couple strokes and Sam knew he was drawing it out.  A long night of teasing lay ahead, he could feel it.  Dean would completely use this new knowledge of Sam to his advantage – not that it wouldn’t be good for Sam, too.  He let his head fall back against the pillow, blew out a breath and licked his lips.  “The ones with knife and gun play, they kinda turn me on.  Just um, a little blood, and the whole idea of trust that deep.  It’s…dangerous and exciting.  I could see us trying that.”  _Why the hell did I just say that?!?!_  
  
Dean watched Sam with a laser focus and his eyes glittered when Sam spoke of their weapons.  ‘Cause yeah, he actually wrote that brand of porn.  It’s what they knew, what they lived.  It’s who they were.   
  
He added a third finger to his slow and sure strokes in and out of Sam’s unfurling hole, stretching him, and opening him deep and wide.  He could see Sam’s whole body flush again when talking, that honeyed skin turning rosier with embarrassment and desire.  He slowly pulled away from Sam to lube his own rock hard cock, and then leaned down over Sam, lining his body along his brother’s, propping his arms on either side of Sam’s chest.  He pushed slowly at Sam’s entrance as he made eye contact with him.  Sam’s eyes were a mixture of myriad emotions but Dean knew love and arousal was beneath all that.  As he slid into Sam, Sam rocked his hips up to meet Dean and they began the dance they’d followed since they were teenagers.  Dean led and Sam followed, it was the Winchester Way.   
  
Soon both boys were breathing heavily and making noises that any fanfiction writer would die to hear.  Sweet endearments spoken, whispered filthy dirty talk, the slip slide of skin against skin, the kisses that forced moans and the nibbles that turned into growls and purrs.  Sensual thrusts and answered arching of bodies gave way to deep pounding as they both sped up, racing for the edge of a cliff they knew they were heading over.   
  
Sam stuttered in almost shock when Dean took hold of his cock and worked it, nailing his prostate dead on with every lunge he made.  They came together, crying out and falling limply into one another, arms entangled as they lay against each other, blissful and sated.  
  
Dean kept his gaze locked with Sam’s, taking in what he knew about his little brother and what he had just learned.  “So.  What’s your handle, Sammy?”  
  
Finally getting his vocal cords to work, Sam huskily replied, “You first.”  
  
Laughing, Dean lightly kissed the tip of Sam’s nose.  “Brotherlovingpiefreak.”   
  
Sam recognized that name.  He felt a small something that had remained caged break free in his heart.  Eyes shining, dimples playing on his cheeks, he grinned in response.  “Littlebrotherishisbitch.”  He didn’t have to hide anymore.  
  
Dean smiled at Sam, leaning down for one more kiss.  “That you are, Sam.  That you are.”

  


 


End file.
